


Drifted into your life

by umiwomitai



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Carpooling, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 23:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20299681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umiwomitai/pseuds/umiwomitai
Summary: Johnny is among the weirdest people to ever pick him up so he can go back to his parent's house. The old rock he listens to, the candy wrappers strewn around on the car floor, the lopsided smiles he gives him without looking at the road.Yet, on his way to the place he hates the most on earth, Doyoung feels the lightest he's ever felt.





	Drifted into your life

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> Oof, I'm not sure what I wanted to do with this. It's an old idea that's been bothering for quite a long time so I'm happy that I can finally put it out there. It's a lot of thoughts and not much is happening but I love it like that so I hope you do to!
> 
> (english is not my first language and this is only proofread by me so please excuse any mistake / weird sentence)

The click of a locket, the easily recognisable sound of toilets being flushed, a door being closed. Choked up sounds, coughs, and another door.

When Doyoung comes out of the toilets, the sun blinds him for a few seconds. He sniffles, wiping his nose with the too-long sleeve of his second-hand jacket. It’s just a little too cold, and he grabs his bag to put it on his shoulder, hoping his ride is already waiting for him. He checks his phone, and through the cracks on the screen a text is glaring at him. 

_ waiting for u @ corner store _

He snorts at the spelling and takes a left to go back to the store. In front of it, there’s only the middle-aged woman sweeping the stairs and a tall, dark haired man. He’s eating a bag of crisps and has sunglasses on, along with a huge fluffy knitted sweater, which makes him look incredibly out of place. Doyoung reckons he probably wouldn’t have come here if it weren’t to pick him up. 

He walks up to him and stops at the bottom of the steps, not really keen on knowing how much taller than him that man is. It’s already embarrassing enough, he doesn’t need to make it worse. 

“Hey. You’re Johnny?”

“Indeed. Doyoung?”

“Obviously.”

The man, Johnny, smirks and throws away his empty bag of crisps before wiping his hands on his jeans. Doyoung is horrified about how disgusting this whole move is, but considering he’ll spend the next few hours in a car with this man, he admits it’s probably best he keeps it to himself. 

“You’re ready to go? No other bags to put in the trunk?”

“No, that’s all I have, and I’ve already gone to the restroom.”

“Ok, then let’s go!”

This man is way too cheerful for a chilly winter morning, and Doyoung suspects he’s the type to enjoy getting up at sunrise to watch the sky while drinking coffee and reading newspapers. When he gets into his car, however, he goes back on his assumptions: this man is a big mess. Not the dirty kind, but there are too many things dangling from the rear view mirror, lots of papers and random things he doesn’t care enough to identify. 

“Ugh, yeah, sorry about the mess,” Johnny says as he sits next to him.

Doyoung puts his bag between his feet and turns around to buckle up, not bothering saying anything. Johnny looks at him with a worried face, before he simply puts his hands on his and takes care of the seatbelt himself. 

“It’s a bit difficult, let me do it.” 

Doyoung wants to comment about how weirdly inappropriate it is to be so close to a stranger, but it somehow feels more awkward to speak about it so he just lets Johnny stay uncomfortably close while he buckles him up. 

“Here you go. Do you mind listening to music as we go?”

“No, I actually like it better with music.” 

“Perfect.” 

Just before they leave the parking lot, Johnny turns on the speakers and puts a playlist on his phone, and when some old funky rock song comes on Doyoung decides this will be the most pleasant carpooling ride he’s ever taken. 

* * *

By chance, by fate, or because of some random horse somewhere maybe, Doyoung finds Johnny offering a ride again the next time he needs it. He hesitates a few seconds, afraid he’ll make things awkward, but then he remembers the welcoming laid-back man, all smiles and dad jokes, and how he ended up enjoying their previous trip, and he books the ride. 

It’s been a few months since he last saw him, and yet as soon as Doyoung gets into the car they fall back in their light banter. It’s just like last time, and the whole ride feels like he’s just spent a few hours with an old friend. It’s the same feeling and he finds himself not wanting to get off. 

Somehow, Johnny’s car feels more like home than his childhood house. 

Before getting off, his bag on his lap, he turns to Johnny. 

“What will you do this weekend?” 

“Hm, some work, and I’ll go to this forest for some photos. Maybe even the beach.”

“Oh. The beach,” Doyoung whispers with melancholy; he hasn’t been there since he was a toddler. 

When he turns to the other, it seems like he has words burning on his tongue, words that he’s dying to say, but they don’t come out. Instead he asks for his number, and with a soft smile Doyoung gives it to him, before exiting the car. He stays on the pavement for a few seconds, watching him leave the street, before he turns to his house. 

Well. He has to go. 

* * *

  
  


The wind is blowing hard today, and Doyoung is awaken two hours before the time his alarm is set to because of the noise. The branches of the tree next to his old childhood bedroom haven’t been cut in a long time apparently, and looking at the yellowish curtains and the dust accumulating on all the furniture, Doyoung figures none of the things related to him have been taken care of anyway. 

He’s come fully aware of how unwelcome he actually is, despite what everyone says. He’s never been lucky, family wise, except for his grandmother, and he’s only grown up to be more detached and bitter than he used to be. There’s no real sadness anymore, no real resentment, just a distant feeling of duty. He comes down the stairs and looks at his parents sitting in the couch, taking their morning coffee together while watching TV like they always do, like they’ve always done.

He watches, and he wonders if they would be able to tell what he usually does in the morning. What are his habits and what his laugh sounds like, what smile he makes at dogs and the silence behind his tears at night. What kind of despair he used to have living in this house, what kind of bitterness blossomed inside him as a teen, what kind of tiredness comes now when he receives their invitation to come home for whatever new family event is being held.

Weddings. Festivities. Funerals. Or simple get togethers. He comes, every single time, pretending everything is all back to normal. But he knows. The family photos he doesn’t appear in. The memories that don’t include his name. The sad sideway looks he gets from his brother while he stands with his wife and his kid. The small whispers when he goes to the kitchen to grab a bottle of whatever alcohol his father asked him to bring back. 

There’s the weight of all this on his shoulders the moment he steps in this house, and yes, standing there in the hallway, looking at his parents, he feels as if he were an intruder. Just a mere stranger that everyone is only pretending is their relative. When his mother turns around and spots him near the door, she smiles and extends her hand, before her eyes focus on his face. 

For a second, Doyoung sees it on her face: she thought it was his brother. Her hand remains still, suspended in the air, while her smile wears thin. He sighs, going back to his bedroom to pack up what little clothes he took out of his bag. 

For a second, he could have let himself believe that she was genuinely happy to see him. 

* * *

When Johnny pulls up in front of the house, he doesn’t even wait for him to stop to open the door and hop in. Inside, the air is warm, smelling like whatever food Johnny picked up, the music loud enough to cover the sound of the engine. He feels comforted. The other man is smiling at him, leaning on the steering wheel, but his eyes are looking past Doyoung.

“Are those your parents?” he asks once Doyoung has buckled up. 

“Yes.”

Johnny doesn’t add anything more, pulling back to return to the highway. They ride in silence for some time, Doyoung doesn’t know exactly how long, having closed his eyes as soon as his head hit the headrest. He listens to the music and to whatever Johnny has to tell about his latest photoshoot, his heartbeat calming down. It’s like he’s back in a small bubble of comfort and peace, not at his parent’s house and not at his own place, not at work and not outside, not with colleagues and not with friends. 

There, inside of Johnny’s car, he can just be. He doesn’t want the trip to stop. 

So he says it. 

“I don’t want to stop.”

“Stop what?” 

“The car. This. I don’t want to go back.”

And Doyoung wants Johnny to understand that he can’t go back anywhere. Not at home, not at his parent’s house, not at work. He wants to be somewhere safe. 

“I feel safe here, with you,” he whispers, laughing bitterly at how desperate he sounds. 

“We don’t have to go back just yet if you don’t want to.”

At this exact moment, when Doyoung looks back at him, the sunshine is hitting Johnny’s hair and it’s making him look beautiful. Beautiful and breathtaking and Doyoung wants to say it, wants to make sure Johnny knows, because it’s been so long since something made his heart beat just a little faster in a good way. But he just sits here, basking in his light. It’s almost suffocating, how much he shines, yet Doyoung can’t stop looking. If he’s bound to burn out, he might as well make it feel good. 

“Where would we go?”

Johnny simply smiles at him, and it doesn’t burn. It’s barely there but it’s warm, enveloping him, taking him by the hand and leading him further in their safe space, telling him it will be ok. It will be ok. 

“Somewhere safe.”

* * *

Doyoung jerks up when the car stops. He looks around and almost feels tears forming in his eyes. He takes off his seatbelt and walks out of the car, not waiting for Johnny. The wind hits his face immediately, making him feel delirious, as he runs down the path that leads to the small beach at the bottom. 

It’s a small portion of sand stuck between rocks and cliffs, and it doesn’t really look that pretty. The wind is even wilder there, waves hitting the sand with crushing sounds. Doyoung loves it. Johnny appears next to him after a moment, wearing his coat. He hands Doyoung his own coat and then takes him by the hand, for real this time, to lead him to the water. They take off their shoes, their socks, and roll up their jeans. Their feet feel the caress of the water when it leaves and the punches of the waves when it comes back. 

Johnny’s hand is still in his and he realises, he doesn’t want to let go. He can’t let go. He’s way too afraid of seeing him disappear in front of his eyes, waking up from the fever dream the other man must have been from the very beginning. How else could he explain the dreamy feeling his laugh gives him and the increasing warmth that fills his heart just by holding his hand. 

It’d be so much easier if Johnny was just a dream. He could wake up and go mess up his life like he’s always done while knowing that he could always, always go back to him as soon as his head would hit his pillow. Oh, does he love the idea. 

But Johnny is here. Standing tall, even taller than Doyoung, being beautiful and whole and mesmerising and… Doyoung stops his train of thoughts, not wanting to dwell more on this. He can’t deny how real and tangible Johnny is which only makes him want to cry and scream. Damn, he’s terrified of the after.

Once they leave this beach, go back to the car, what will happen? Once he has to go back home and back to work, what will Johnny do? Or, the real question is, what will Doyoung do? He knows himself way too well, knows what he usually does, knows what he will allow himself to risk and try. So he knows, painfully so, that it’s not enough. 

He’s not ready, not enough to make Johnny stay. 

“Doyoung?”

He starts hearing his voice, eyes focusing back on him. 

“Stop thinking for a moment, ok? There’s no need to worry about anything here.”

“I wish you could be right,” Doyoung whispers back, holding onto his hand even tighter as buries his feet in the sand. 

Johnny doesn’t contradict him, doesn’t say anything actually, and just keeps being here. He breathes in the deep sea smell, washing his lungs of the heavy air of the roads. Doyoung does the same, closing his eyes as he takes in the salty air. 

“I haven’t been here in so long.”

“I suspected it, yeah. You sounded nostalgic when I told you I’d go.”

“You picked that up?” Doyoung asks, genuinely surprised. Sometimes he forgets that people around him actually pay attention to him.

“You’re easy to read when you’re with me.”

“How do you know I’m not like that with others?” he snorts, letting go of him to crouch down and put his hands in the water. It’s cold. 

“Because of how you were when we first met. And because of your face when I pick you up.”

There’s a lot that Johnny is saying without really speaking and Doyoung is thankful he’s not pushing it too far. It gets too obvious how he hates going there, it’s just not something he wants to talk about at this exact moment. He just wants to feel, because for once everything feels good. 

“I hate going there. But I love being with you,” and that’s all he dares say without feeling his throat tighten and choke him up. 

“I love when you’re here,” Johnny says back. His voice sounds almost playful, almost like he was about to say something different but thought better of it. Doyoung silently thanks him for this. “I want you to be here more often.”

There it is. The fear grows in him so fast he almost falls, seeing his hands start to shake before he feels them. It’s here, it’s at this moment that Doyoung has to be brave enough to step up and try to make his life what he wants it to be. There’s Johnny, right here, looking at him with his beautiful brown eyes, his naked feet tickled by the waves, and he’s everything. He’s the promise that life will be better, that life can be better, if he just tries and reaches for him. He’s the foolish hope that all his efforts to stay alive and fight for himself weren’t in vain. He’s the intoxicating truth that love exists, that love is out there and that it’s worth fighting for. 

Johnny makes him want to laugh at life the way only his grandmother could, her free spirit running in his mind and his every move. Johnny makes him want to hold onto his hand like he’s been holding on to dear life and believe it will give him the strength to face whatever will come his way. Johnny makes him want to fall in love with him every single day and still never growing tired of it. Johnny makes him want to be more himself that he’s ever tried to be in so long. 

He’s afraid when he stands up properly to hold his hand. He’s afraid when he smiles at him and leads him back to the car. He’s afraid when they stop at a convenience store on their way home and eat in the car. He’s still afraid when Johnny drops him off and waves him goodbye after leaving a small kiss on his lips. 

He’s actually terrified, to the point he breaks down the moment he steps in his apartment. But when he has calmed down, taken a shower and put on his pyjamas, he lays in his bed and there a message from Johnny waiting for him, a simple picture of his dying plant with a sad emoji, and it’s alright.

It’s alright. He’s lived so long being ashamed and afraid, he supposes he can live even longer being afraid and in love. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading that much! Please let me know if you liked it. Also, I often write with unclear settings and past things that are referred to but not explained so I hope it doesn't bother you when reading.  
[tumblr](https://umiwomitai.tumblr.com) [twt](https://twitter.com/_tildawn) [cc](https://curiouscat.me/umiwomitai)


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